


Beneath a Sanguine Sky

by icameheretowinry



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-03-02 03:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13309482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icameheretowinry/pseuds/icameheretowinry
Summary: Set during an incredibly brutal winter around a year after the Promised Day, Edward Elric prepares for a journey to Fort Briggs to meet with a professor from Drachma to learn more about their curious form of alchemy. Yet, shortly after a cordial welcome, things begin to take a darker turn. Just who is this mysterious professor? Why does his alchemy seem suspiciously familiar? Of all people, why does General Armstrong seem to be afraid of him?





	1. The Winter Festival

**Author's Note:**

> Hi reader! This first chapter was originally a one-shot I did for an ask on Tumblr, yet, once I got it done, I just felt like it had to be part of something larger. I picked the detail of Ed meeting with a Professor from Drachma, and decided to roll with it! This is a work in progress, and will be for quite some time, but I certainly hope you stick around until the end! If you have time, I always appreciate feedback on my writing and story ideas! I hope you enjoy your stay!!

A low groan escape Edward’s lips as he heard the door of his study creak open. The shadows shifted harshly as the early-morning winter light poured through the doorway from a window in the hallway. The frozen glass looked as though it were caught mid-shatter, and tiny drifts of a rare snowstorm gathered in the corner of each pane. A golden-haired boy followed the path of the door into the room, the sunlight casting a pale halo around him. 

“What do you want, Al?” he grumbled, pausing halfway through a complex equation taking over the paper in front of him. 

“Did you see the snow?” he asked, his voice barely able to contain his excitement. 

He wandered slowly over the worn work table shoved against the back corner of the former storeroom turned study. Stacks of dusty research volumes, all in various stages of decay, walled his brother in an sort of academic fortress. The notes sprawled across the makeshift desk tumbled across the pages in wobbly lines. 

“Did you forget again?” inquired Alphonse with laugh. 

Ed glanced down at his white-knuckled on the pencil in his left hand. 

“Oh, right,” he mumbled and switched to his right. 

If he was honest, either way felt a little foreign if he gave it enough thought. 

“What are you working on?” 

“I WAS trying to figure out how alchemists from Drachma practice some form of alchemy without using a portal,” replied Ed with a frown. 

“How’s that going?” asked Al as he leaned a shoulder against the study’s greying wallpaper. 

“Nothing but dead end’s,” he admitted bitterly as he released his iron grip on the pencil, “I don’t think I’ll really get anywhere until I meet with that professor at Briggs next month. That is, if the general doesn’t… put a stop to it…”

Ed shuddered. 

“You should take a break then!” he said with a chuckle, “Especially if you’re not getting anywhere.” 

“It’s important for me to have all of my basic research done, Al,” replied Ed sternly, “You know how tedious this whole arrangement is.” 

“I know, brother,” said Al, “But you finished your basic research months ago!” 

“I could still be missing something!” 

Al laughed harder, “You just never know when to take it easy, do you?! My research materials have to be translated before I can do anything. So, I accepted that maybe I won’t be able to do anything for awhile!

Ed didn’t reply, his gaze bore into the cluster of half-finished equations resting on the table. 

“The winter festival in town is up and running,” Al mentioned suddenly. 

“The one we used to go to as kids?” asked Ed, still staring at his notes. 

“Yeah,” he replied, “Winry and I are going.” 

“And so are you!!” 

WInry barreled into the small study, and before Ed could react, yanked him out of his chair and pulled him down the hallway towards the front door. 

“WHAT THE HELL WINRY?!” 

The blond mechanic simply smiled and shoved his jacket and a pair of gloves into his hands. 

“You’re going to need these,” she said with a wink, “It’s cold out there!” 

A permanent scowl tugged at the corners of Ed's lips the second he stepped out the door. While the little village of Resembool wasn't particularly known for its harsh winters, every decade or two, a fierce cold would clamp down on the countryside and bury it under a thick blanket of snow. He jammed his gloved fingers deeper into his coat pockets to ward off the numbness already setting in. 

"This is awful," he muttered, "And it makes my leg ache."

"Oh, come on, Ed!" said Winry spinning to face his direction, sending tendrils of her blond hair cascading over the shoulders of her baby blue jacket, "You sound like a cranky old man! This is supposed to be fun!"

The alchemist grumbled something incoherent under his breath and continued to trudge slowly along the snowy road. Winry rolled her eyes and quickened her pace to catch up with Al. 

As he listened to the two of them rapidly exchange their plans for the afternoon, a few memories, blurred and melancholy around the edges, crawled their way back into his head. Yet, before they came into focus, a familiar voice shattered the stagnant chill around them. 

"ALPHONSE?!" 

The voice belonged to a petite girl with a tangle of wild red hair. Her navy wool coat billowed out behind her as she bounded through the snow towards them. Alphonse stumbled as she engulfed him in a hug. 

“M-Millie!” stammered Al as he returned her embrace. 

Fragments of the years spent in their tiny village school flashed through Ed's mind. 

She pulled away, tears sparkling in her blue eyes, “We all heard the rumors. I’m overjoyed to finally find they’re true!” 

“Nice to see you too, Mille,” remarked Ed. 

She released Al, and turned toward him with playful smirk.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Eddie, were you feeling left out?” she asked, her words drawn out long and slow, “Would you like an award for finally getting taller?” 

Ed shook his head and pulled his old friend into a hug. Millie glanced over to Al and Winry who were poorly attempting to stifle their giggles. 

“Still the same idiot as always,” she said with a smile, “Right, Winry?” 

A curious fluttering suddenly settled in the mechanic’s stomach, and chased the laughter away from her lips. 

“Eh… uh y-yeah, I guess so,” she mumbled. 

"There you are!" another voice echoed across the frozen landscape. 

The boy that followed was nearly breathless from running through the snow, his cheeks stained pink and his black curls damp against his forehead. 

"Sorry, Cass," said Millie, "You know what happens when I get excited."

Cassius, another former classmate, simply shook his head and smiled.

"Long time no see!" he said cheerily as he shook the brothers' hands and pulled Winry into a quick hug. 

"What are the two of you up to these days?" asked Al while fishing a pair of gloves out of his coat pocket. 

“I’ve been away at university in East City in an engineering program run by the military,” explained Millie, “But after all that’s happened, I’m not really sure what’s next. For now, I’m home waiting for classes to resume.” 

She shrugged, sending the fine layer of snow that settled on her shoulder flurrying to the ground. 

“I’m an apprentice to the current schoolmaster,” said Cass, “I have a lot of ideas for new programs for students, but I have to become certified first. And you three?”

“Alchemy,” answered the Elric brothers nearly simultaneously. 

“Automail!” added Winry with a laugh. 

“None of you have truly changed a bit!” said Cass with a shake of his head. 

“Hey, Al,” said Millie suddenly, “You wouldn’t want to go ice skating with us, would you?” 

“Yes!” said Al, his golden eyes sparkling. 

Ed frowned. 

“Oh, come on, Eddie,” said Millie as she gave his shoulder a playful shove, “You and Winry are more than welcome to come too!”

“Not for me,” replied Ed evenly, “In this weather, my leg is a bit too stiff for something like that.” 

“Winry?”

“I’ll stay here with the grouch and keep him entertained.”

“HEY!”

“Well, it’s true!” 

Millie laid a hand on Winry’s shoulder, “Thanks for taking one for the team, Win.”

“I’M STANDING RIGHT HERE YOU KNOW!” 

“Come on, Al!” said Cass with a wave of his hand. 

It wasn’t long before the three of them disappeared behind the whiteness of the nearest hill. Ed shoved his gloved hands deep into his pockets and continued down the road, leaving Winry to catch up to him. 

“He’s going to be just fine, you know,” Winry assured him after she fell in step beside him. 

The scowl momentarily faded from Ed’s face. 

“I’m not worried about him,” said Ed, his voice muffled and low, “He’s had six months to adjust to his body, and besides, he’s seventeen. He’s old enough to make his own decisions.” 

“You know you can’t fool me, right Ed?” 

The alchemist raised his eyebrows and glanced over at her in awe. Her gaze remained fixed on the cluster of tiny wooden huts in the distance. 

“You’re right that he’s had time to adjust,” she continued, “but I know you still worry.”

“Win… I…”

“It’s okay, you know,” she said, glancing up at him with a smile, “I worry about the two of you all the time.”

“I… I… uh—“

The torrent of thoughts in his head refused to form themselves into coherent sentences. 

“LET’S GO SHOPPING!” exclaimed Winry suddenly, before grabbing Ed’s hand and sprinting towards the winter market now in full view in front of them. As Ed stumbled after her, he began to wonder just what sort of afternoon he’d gotten himself into. 

Like most aspects of Resembool, the market seemed caught in a small pocket of space where time stood still. Everything was just as Ed remembered it: fifteen or so wooden huts selling odd collections of trinkets or hearty traditional food, a large covered dance hall, a massive fire pit to be brought to life after the winter sun fizzled out by late afternoon, and somewhere off in the distance, a frozen pond filled with skaters. 

Yet, he couldn't help but feel that he was stuck on the outside; watching the familiar through a wall of thick, blurry glass. His mind leapt from thought to thought without lingering, and the answers to the questions posed in the dusty tomes piled in his study hovered cruelly out of reach. 

“ED!” 

He quickly turned himself right-side out to find Winry staring at him, her face lined with worry, clutching a faded red book in her hands. 

“Are you alright?” 

Ed winced as he shifted his weight off his automail leg, but offered her a reassuring smile, “Oh, I’m just fine, Win! I was just… uh… thinking about my research and—“

“YOU IDIOT!” 

He yelped as he felt the book’s stiff leather cover made contact with his right shoulder. 

“YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE TAKING A BREAK!” 

She punctuated each word with a dramatic wave of the book.

“Ma’am?” 

A small voice caught Ed’s attention. It’s origin quickly revealed itself to be the small elderly shopkeeper practically cowering behind his small mountains of antique books. 

“Ma’am?” he repeated himself, a little louder, “Please, that’s an antique and the only copy I have!” 

Winry paused in her rant, her cheeks instantly flushing, as she rummaged through the pockets of her thick wool coat. 

“I’m terribly sorry,” she mumbled as she pressed a disorderly stack of bills into the man’s trembling hands, “He’s just been so stressed lately, and I want to make sure he has a nice afternoon…”

She quickly turned, the book clutched to her chest, and stiffly marched away through the snow. 

“Geez, Win!” gasped Ed when he finally caught up to her, “What was that all about? Are you trying to traumatize me into having a good time?” 

The mechanic stopped and turned toward him, her lips drawn into a frown. 

“You wouldn’t answer me, Ed! I asked you the same question three times and you were so far off in your own head, you didn’t even hear me…” 

“I’m sorry! I really am.”

Winry sighed and held out the book, “Now that I have your attention, do you think this would be a nice gift for Al? Especially now that I’m stuck with it?” 

Ed took the book and gently opened it’s faded red cover. While likely a little outdated due to its age, the alchemist’s breath caught in his throat when he realized he was holding a translated copy of the “Medicinal Benefits of Xingese Alkahestry,” one of the foundational building blocks of his brother’s alchemic research. No copies were thought to longer exist. 

“W-Winry…” his voice trembling, “How did you find this?!”

Her frown loosed into a small smile, “To be honest, it was the first book I picked up. When I saw the title, I thought it could maybe be useful to Al’s research.” 

“Useful?!” gasped Ed, “This is incredible!” 

Before he could turn a page, Winry quickly pulled the book out of his hands.

“Hey!” 

“No reading ahead!” she answered with a playful smirk, “This is Al’s gift, not yours. If you want to read it, you’ll have to take it up with him.” 

“No fair…” mumbled Ed, as he shoved his nearly numb hands into his coat pockets. 

They both perked up as the heavy scent of cinnamon curled lazily through the frigid air. The hut closest to them was nearly enveloped in a hazy spiced fog that rose off two large kettles brimming with dark liquid. A blurry image of his mother in her frighteningly red coat flashed quickly through Ed’s mind. 

“Our parents used to drink this” said Winry suddenly. 

Ed nodded, quietly grateful she remembered too. 

“Let’s try it!” 

Before he could object, Winry dashed up to the counter and ordered a steaming mug for each of them. 

“Ah, Ed?” 

Ed rolled his eyes and joined her at the counter before pulling a few coins from his pocket and dropping them into the hand of the heavyset man on the other side. 

“Al’s gift a little pricier than you thought?” 

“Shut up,” mumbled Winry as she shoved a drink at him. 

Tendrils of steam curled slowly off the murky liquid, as if slowed by the chilly air. A calming warmth blossomed in Ed’s chest after the first sip. While initially sweet, its flavor faded into slight spicy bitterness as it lingered on his tongue. He glanced over to Winry whose crystalline eyes were wide. Her bangs fell damp against her forehead. 

“I’m pretty sure there’s a significant amount of alcohol in here,” she stated, eyeing the dark liquid with suspicion. 

Ed couldn’t help but laugh, “No wonder our parents always seemed to be having such a good time!” 

Something melancholic flickered in Winry’s eyes as she took another sip. Ed frowned. 

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it,” he said. 

“It’s not that,” the mechanic replied as she lowered the mug from her lips, “I’m just remembering. It’s just hard not to feel a little blue.” 

Ed gave her shoulder a gentle nudge, recalling the blurry thoughts that earlier crossed his mind.

“Don’t go getting all mopey on me,” he said gently, “We’re here to have a good time, right?” 

Winry nodded as the sadness slowly faded from her gaze. She took another sip. 

“One of my favorite memories of the market from when we were little was of Hohen— I mean, your father,” she said suddenly. 

“Really?!” asked Ed, unable to restrain his surprise. 

“Yeah!” replied Winry, “Every time he drank this, his glasses always fogged up from the steam. He always looked so confused, like he always forgot it would happen. I don’t why, but for some reason, I thought it was hilarious!” 

He grinned.

“My old man was pretty clueless a lot of the time.” 

Winry pointed out it was the first time she hadn’t heard him call his father a name. Ed, naturally, blamed the drink. 

“Or maybe my favorite is the time I tried to teach you and Al how to ice skate,” she giggled, “Al was decent, but you were TERRIBLE!”

Ed groaned, “You always make it sound worse than it was. I did just fine!” 

“You fell on your bum so many times you couldn’t sit properly for a week!” 

“Enough about it!” Ed pouted. 

He glanced down at the empty mug, “These sure are strong…”

Yet, when Winry suggested another round, he didn’t object. With every sip, they drew out moments of the past together, one old instance of happiness triggering another. 

"And do you remember that awful snowman?!" giggled Winry, nearly dissolving into tears, "With the skulls all over it?!"

"It was badass!" asserted Ed. 

"It was tacky beyond belief!" laughed Winry as she dabbed her eyes with the her coat sleeve. 

Ed shook his head in defeat, "It was pretty bad..."

"He admits the truth!" gasped Winry with exaggerated astonishment. 

It was beginning to snow, leaving a fine silver dusting upon every undisturbed surface, and Ed slowly noticed the music drifting through the frigid air. Maybe it was the mulled wine crowding out his thoughts, but she was standing there so perfectly in the dying light, her cheeks stained pink, a veil of snow caught in her hair, and her lips dressed with a smile. 

"Do you want to go dance?" he asked. 

Winry nodded, grabbed his hand, and they headed towards the covered hall. A couple hours later, that's where Al found them, as the last notes of the night died upon the strings. 

He smiled and walked across the dance floor to meet them, a worn pair of borrowed skates slung over his left shoulder. 

"Al!" exclaimed Ed as he Winry paused mid-step, "When did you get here?"

"Oh, not too long ago," his brother replied, "Took awhile to get your attention though!"

"You two make such a cute couple!" remarked Millie cheerfully, who was followed closely by Cass, "Sure took you two long enough. All of us saw it coming for ages!"

The alchemist and mechanic instantly reddened, quickly put some distance between themselves. 

"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT AT ALL!" they insisted nearly simultaneously. 

Millie rolled her eyes while Cass and Al shared a knowing look. 

"I just wanted Ed to have a good time!" said Winry desperately, "And he did. That's all!" 

"Thanks for making up my mind for me, Win."

Winry placed her hands on her hips and shook her head, "You did have a good time, didn't you?"

Ed raised his hands in defeat, "You got me! I did."

Then, after the usual fanfare of goodbyes and promises to see each again soon, the trio headed home. The air was cool and still. Ed was listening to Al and Winry talk about his new book, and for the first time, he wished they could be as timeless as Resembool. Because it was still snowing and Winry's eyes were full of stars.


	2. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Winry prepare for their embarkment to Fort Briggs. However, things don't unveil completely as planned.

After several hours of curious silence, Winry twisted the dull, brassy knob on the door of Ed’s study with cautious, trembling fingers. With a gentle nudge of her hip, the aging hinges gave to movement with a defeated whine. Late afternoon light struggled through the drawn curtains. An oil lamp burned feebly on the desk wedged into the far corner of the room. The air, heavy with the scent of decaying paper, filled the mechanic’s lungs. 

“Hey, Ed? There’s a telegraph—“

Winry crumpled to the ground as her shin made contact with a precariously balanced pile of heavy alchemic textbooks. The leather-bound tomes tumbled across the wooden floor in a chorus of dull thuds. She noticed Ed slowly rise to his feet, hidden before by the bulk of a large traveling trunk, the bridge of his nose pinched between the thumb and index finger of his left hand. Nothing about his lethargic movements indicated he’d noticed her at all. 

“Your concern is overwhelming me,” quipped Winry through gritted teeth as the pain continued to pulsate beneath her skin. 

“Huh?” Ed turned towards her unhurriedly, despite her obvious discomfort, his right arm falling limply to his side. 

Gripping the doorframe for leverage, Winry pulled herself up and brushed her hands quickly over her pale pink apron. Ed’s gaze drifted lazily to the wall behind her where nearly every square inch was infected with tacked up research notes. 

“Your method of packing is a health hazard for anyone who sets foot in this room,” she grumbled, a frown tugging lightly at the corners of her mouth. 

The frown deepened as she surveyed the lopsided metropolis of books and papers littering every flat surface of the cramped study. The cavernous interior of the traveling trunk, however, remained empty. 

“Or… perhaps I should say lack thereof,” Winry mumbled under her breath. 

When Ed gave no reply, she withdrew the now slightly crumbled telegraph from her apron pocket. The tissue-thin paper barely entombed the freshly printed message inside. She held it out to him, yet he remained marooned on the only small island of the study’s floor big enough to comfortably occupy. 

“Ed…?” 

Winry squinted and lowered her outstretched arm. She wasn’t sure if it was simply the way the shadows arranged themselves to him in the dying light of the oil lamp, but something in his expression looked haunted, almost as though something inside him was terrified of the light, and pulled anything she recognized away from the surface. The golden hue in his eyes looked dull and worn, and the skin on the sides of his nose where his fingers were once fixed, were rubbed red and raw. Something like fear welled up inside her, and she quickly picked her way through the stacks of books until she was beside him. 

“What did you do?!” gasped Winry, grabbing his wrist. 

Something in her voice, or her touch, managed to turn him right-side out. The shadows on his face shifted and his eyes instantly brightened as though someone once again flicked on the light in the attic of his mind. He ran a few tremulous fingers through his loose blonde hair. 

“I was just… thinking,” he explained, “What was it you wanted…”

The excuse withered on his tongue when he noticed Winry’s eyes grow stormy. She tucked the telegraph back into her apron pocket and placed her hands on her hips. 

“What’s going on with you?!” she demanded, “You shut yourself in here for days at time without a word of explanation. You reread the same books over and over again. I thought getting out of the house the other day would change something, but as far as I can see, we’re right back where we started!” 

“Do you know how incredibly important this meeting is?!” Ed snapped, drawing himself up to his full height, “Do you know just what’s on the line here?! Testing the frontiers of science?! Our country’s peace?!” 

With frustration practically evaporating off his skin, he glared down at her. Yet, despite his greater stature, he quickly felt dwarfed in the mechanic’s presence. He braced himself for one of her trademark outbursts, readying his arsenal of responses. 

“I do know,” she replied evenly, each razor-thin word hitting their mark with deadly accuracy, “I may not know much about alchemy, but I like to think I know you.”

Ed swallowed. The air around him felt too thick to force into his lungs. 

“I know how important this is to you, and how much you want to be prepared,” she continued bitterly, “I also know when something’s bothering you, especially when a big fat empty excuse is staring me in the face.”

The alchemist didn’t reply, but his downcast eyes were enough to declare his defeat. Bypassing any displays of victory, he heard Winry sigh, and watched her turn to leave the study on the feathery edges of his vision. She paused in the doorway. 

“We really should install your winter automail,” she said more to herself than anyone else, “It’s best to have a couple days to get used to it—“

“What did the telegraph say, Win?” he asked as he leaned over to put the languid flame of the oil lamp out of its misery. 

“Funny enough, it was addressed to me,” she admitted, her expression unreadable in the dim light, “but that was probably a mistake. The colonel— er, lieutenant colonel Mustang wants us to stop over in Central on our way to Briggs. Something he wants to discuss. Must be important to your research? ” 

As she stepped into the golden glow of the waning day flooding the hallway, he couldn’t help but notice the sinister smile curled across her lips. She did know him, and well enough to expect anything remotely resembling an order from Mustang to trigger an instant reflex of annoyance. That was her true victory. 

Yet, as her footsteps faded away, he nearly winced as the darkness began to slither beneath his skin and the pained whispers echoed in his head. No matter how he boxed his ears or filled his brain to the bursting point with new information, they stubbornly lingered, wailing up from some sort of internal pit of despair. With little care, he stumbled through his research materials and followed the hallway to Winry’s workshop, pinching the bridge of his nose. A sudden metallic commotion shattered Ed’s concentration as he entered the room. 

“WOULD YOU STOP THAT?!” 

In an instant, Winry latched onto his wrist and pulled his hand away from his face. Pain erupted like wildfire across his cheeks, and sent him staggering, pulling the automail mechanic along with him. 

“WHAT THE HELL?!” 

Ed braced himself against the slick tile wall behind him as the spots slowly faded from his vision. 

“Goddammit, Ed!” she sputtered, still gripping his wrist, “I’m worried about you!” 

Ed’s expression softened even as his thoughts remained clouded with pain. 

“I’m fine, Win. I promise,” he assured her with a paper-thin smile, “I just have a lot on my mind. There’s nothing to be scared of.” 

The hue of her eyes still looked agitated, like the ocean in the wake of a hurricane. 

“I promise,” he repeated. 

Slowly, he felt her grip on him weaken and the turbulence in her gaze begin to settle. 

“Edward Elric, you’ve scared me enough times to take ten years off the end of my life!”

Before he could respond, a flurry of knocks on the front door sent Den barreling down the hallway in a blur of fur and teeth. Ed watched as the frustration melted from Winry’s expression at an alarming rate. She turned, and quickly made her way towards the front door. Pulling Den away, she called out. 

“It’s open!” 

The aging green door flew open with a shriek from its hinges as a particularly harsh gust of icy wind pushed their visitor inside. After corralling Den in the kitchen, Winry reemerged in the hallway, brushing her hands quickly over the imaginary creases in her apron. 

“Millie!” she cried, and swept her friend into one of her famous bone-crushing hugs. 

The frigid air quickly infected Ed’s automail, locking the joints and sending a dull ache up the left side of his body. 

“Can someone please shut the door?” he asked through gritted teeth. 

Millie folded her arms across her chest, sending shivers through her damp rust-colored curls. 

“I guess my hopes were too high that everyone would be so glad to see me,” she quipped. Turning towards Winry, she withdrew a small folded paper from the pocket of her navy wool coat, “This showed up at my place by mistake. Apparently whoever delivers these can’t make heads or tails of Resembool in the snow.” 

Winry took the paper and unfolded it with tremulous fingers. It was another telegram from Mustang: 

MISS WINRY ROCKBELL STOP  
PLEASE DISREGARD PREVIOUS MESSAGE STOP  
MEETING WILL BE WITH YOU ONLY STOP  
KEEP CONFIDENTIAL STOP

Her eyes widened as she filed the same rows of words across her vision. 

‘What was this all about?’ she wondered. 

Her concentration shattered as the front door slammed shut. 

“Sorry,” mumbled Ed while massaging where his thigh met his automail, “The cold’s really been getting to me.” 

“Speaking of!” exclaimed Winry, a hair too brightly, “We have to get your winter automail installed!” 

“Now, that’s something I’d like to see!” exclaimed Millie suddenly. 

“Really?!” Winry asked. 

“I may be interested principally in biochemistry, but seeing humans and machines work together is pretty spectacular!” she replied while unbuttoning her coat. 

For an instant, it seemed as though someone lit a sparkler behind Winry’s eyes. She grabbed Ed’s wrist and pulled him back towards the workshop at the center of the house. 

“Wow..” gasped Millie as she glanced around the bright, sterile room, “Just as I remember it.” 

She glanced up at Ed, who shuffled from foot to foot without saying a word. 

“Hey Eddie,” she asked, after noticing the red marks on his nose, “What happened to your face?” 

Ed reflexively reached to touch the sensitive spot, but Winry quickly swatted his hand away.

“He’s just been concentrating too hard recently,” she said, her tone icy against his ears. 

“Well,” replied Millie, a smirk curling across her pale lips, “I know it’s difficult for you, but there’s no need to hurt yourself!” 

Ed frowned as Winry struggled to stifle a laugh. 

“Well, Ed, you know the drill,” she said, still all smiles, “Off with your pants and let’s get on with it.” 

Any trace of the peculiar redness on Ed’s nose disappeared as his entire face went crimson. 

“Oh, come on Ed,” said Millie, making no attempt to hide her amusement, “I want to see how it works!” 

“W-Winry?” 

Winry giggled, “Why so nervous all of a sudden?” 

Ed froze, any attempt at a response remained firmly lodged in his throat. 

“Ok, Win, I think we’ve messed with him enough.” 

Finally, Winry released her amusement in full, filling the sterile room with something akin to birdsong. Cheeks still burning, Ed folded his arms across his chest as if to squeeze the heat out of himself. He swallowed hard, fully aware of where the feeling originated, but shaken by its sudden ferocity. Only until the last tendrils of laughter left Winry’s lips did the fire truly begin to fade. 

After several more minutes of protest, the mechanic finally coaxed her reluctant patient onto the examination table. As was routine, she plopped down on a stool at Ed’s left and started fishing around in the frighteningly red tool box perched on a metal cart next to her. When she finally located the correct wrench in it’s seemingly bottomless depths, she motioned for Millie to pull up a seat next to her. The rusty-haired chemistry student let her eyes wander up and down the length of the artificial limb, only pausing where the mechanic did as she loosened nearly imperceivable screws. 

Unable to select from the growing mountain of questions in her head, Millie released the simplest, “What’s all this for?” 

“There’s not much too it…” she began.

“Says you,” pointed out Ed and Millie nearly simultaneously. 

Winry rolled her eyes, and without looking up from her work, she answered, “I’m replacing his regular automail with a model that’s much more durable for long periods of time spent at freezing temperatures. For a normal Resembool winter, I wouldn’t bother, but several months at Briggs is an entirely different story—“

“You’re going to Fort Briggs?!” her question tripping over the end of Winry’s explanation. 

“I don’t know exactly how much about it I can say…” muttered Ed.

“Oh, come on, Ed!” she laughed, “I studied the development of military bioweapons in Central for two years. Not to brag, but I probably know a thing or two even you don’t! And besides, It’s not like I have a big mouth or anything.”

Ed glanced towards Winry to help him point out the obvious flaw in her attempt at consolation, but the mechanic only allowed him a small smirk as she carried on with her work. He sighed in defeat. 

“Alright, I’ll give you the short version,” he conceded.

He paused. The curiosity radiating out of his old friend was nearly palpable. 

“Anyway… I’m meeting with a professor of alchemy from Drachma to exchange research,” Ed explained, “Since relations with them are a bit, well… tense. a secure location close to the border was ideal. Briggs met the criteria.” 

“You sure got the short end of the stick, didn’t you?” remarked Millie with a smirk. 

Ed frowned, “Huh?”

“It’s no secret Amestris knows next to nothing about Drachman alchemy,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world while giving his shoulder a gentle shove, “Did you lose a bet to Al or something? He told me he’s studying Xingese alkahestry. You have friends in pretty high places there too, right?”

Ed laughed, “That’s actually not common knowledge at all. I’m impressed you knew! I know it may seem that way, but the arrangement makes a lot of sense. I’m sure he mentioned it, but Al would someday like to be a doctor, so having a background in medicinal alchemy is a good plan. Since he can still perform it, his research is more application-based.”

He paused, craning his neck and searching Millie’s freckled expression for any hint of boredom. Yet, he found none. Her eyes sparkled with crystalline fire, and her lips perched on the edge of a smile. Leaning his head back, tentatively, he continued. 

“It’s actually a very exciting time for alchemy. I might even call it a new era.”

The gold in his eyes seemed to run molten as he spoke. 

“All state alchemists are going back to their roots, and testing them,” he explained, “Armstrong, Marcoh, and even Mustang. Scar’s research has turned up records of an ancient form of Ishavalan alchemy. It’s incredible! The least Al and I can do is help expand the search to Xing, Drachma, and Creta.” 

“Have you heard anything from her?” asked Winry, a sudden shadow crossing her flaxen-framed face. 

“No,” Ed hung his head, “I haven’t.” 

Winry said nothing and continued her examination of Ed’s automail. Yet, the stiffness in her movements betrayed her. 

“We had a friend in Creta who could use alchemy,” Ed explained, “But since this project really started becoming a big deal, the military hasn’t been able to turn up a single trace of her.”

Millie swallowed the questions lodged in her throat. 

“In any case,” he continued stiffly, “the appearance of this Drachman alchemy professor is a promising lead—“

“Well, that settles it!” exclaimed Millie suddenly. 

“Settles what?” Ed asked. 

“I’m coming with,” she explained with a sideways smile. 

“WHAT?!” 

Ed and Winry’s jaws simultaneously dropped to the floor. 

Millie shrugged, “You’ve sold me!”

“And again,” Winry repeated carefully, “What?!”

“Good god, you two,” she answered, her icy eyes practically sparkling, “A new era of alchemic science? A journey to a high-security base deep in the northern mountains? Military intrigue? Mysterious disappearances? Who wouldn’t want to tag along?! For some of the brightest people I know, that’s a pretty simple puzzle to put together if you ask me.” 

“That’s because no one else in the known universe could possibly come up with it but you,” Ed muttered. 

“Millie, this is serious,” said Winry evenly as she fixed an oily wrench to a screw near Ed’s knee, “It means a lot to the new government, and especially to Ed—“

The fire-haired girl folded her arms and frowned, “I’m well aware, Win. Why do you think I got involved in the military in the first place? I just knew something big was going to happen.”

She paused, and threw her old friend a wry smile, “And I was right!”

The mechanic sighed and bowed her head back towards her work. 

“Besides,” she continued, “With the engineering program gone belly up, I have nothing better to do. I can find my way around an Amestrian military base. Knowing the lazy and sticky fingers still lurking around, no one will hesitate to put me to work!” 

Ed sighed, “You’re not wrong. We leave in two days. Think you can be ready to go by then?”

“Sure thing!” replied Millie cheerfully, the multitude of freckles on her cheeks shifting to accommodate her wide smile. Without another word, she turned on her heel, practically skipped out of the workshop, and disappeared into the Resembool winter with a tired click from the front door. 

Winry shook her head, “She has no idea what she’s getting into…”

“More like, ‘who,’” Ed shuddered as images of General Armstrong’s mountainous gaze trudged through his mind. 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” scolded the blond mechanic as she struggled with a particularly sticky screw, “I’m just afraid that imagination of her’s is going to let her down.”

“I guess there’s that too—”

“Please give the General some credit, Ed,” she chided through gritted teeth, the screw still stubbornly holding it’s place near Ed’s metallic ankle, “I don’t know the details of course, but I heard that the coup wouldn’t have been possible without her and the rest of the Briggs troops.” 

“You think I don’t give her any credit?!” he gasped, “I’ll give her all the credit if it’s what guarantees my survival.” 

Winry rolled her eyes. 

“She scares me,” Ed continued with a loud whisper. 

“She scares you?” giggled Winry, “Well, my respect for her has just exponentially increased.”

“Hey!” retorted Ed with a paper thin frown, “The least you could do is defend me!” 

“I’ll think about it,” she smirked.

With a final twist of the wrench, the last screw bonding his leg to his body fell to the floor of the workshop with a soft satisfied twinkle. As the frown truly set on his face, Ed shifted on the lightly padded table. 

“I’m ready,” he murmured. 

With a silent nod, Winry disconnected the automail leg. She watched the muscle fibers under Ed’s skin tighten and his breathing go ragged. He didn’t cry out, he never did, but the pain bloomed in his eyes like an poisonous golden flower. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead. 

“That wasn’t so bad!” he broke the familiar silence with a fabricated smile. 

Winry returned it as she removed the heavy sections of the metal limb from the table. Routine was routine, and they carried on adjustments into the evening, the conversation as effortless as breathing. 

“All done!” declared Winry triumphantly as she tossed her remaining tools aside. 

Ed nodded, the ordeal still forming a fist of tension in his chest. 

“I still can’t believe she’s coming with us…” said the mechanic suddenly in an attempt to distract her patient. 

“Think that scatterbrain can pack in less than two days?” chuckled Ed, raising a brow. 

Winry stood, “I’d like to ask you the same thing!” 

“Heh… it’s coming together?”

“By tomorrow afternoon, I expect to be able to walk through that study of yours without risking my life!” 

Yet, her grin gave her away. 

“Alright, alright,” Ed agreed, his hands raised in defense, “Deal.” 

“It’ll be time to leave before we know it.” 

True to Winry’s prediction, the hours until their departure slipped by criminally quickly. Between the scatterings of books, and the exchanges of schedules, Ed lost track of time. Before he knew it, he was watching Al’s receding from the train window as he and Winry chugged towards Central. The only thing shaking his reality was the frightfully red-haired girl sitting across from him. Despite usually bursting at the seams with words, Millie kept oddly quiet for the duration of their several-hour long journey. Her fervor filled the train car silently as she fidgeted on the hard wooden seats and paced up and down the car’s length. Her behavior couldn’t help but make Ed and Winry smile. 

“She’s just like an excited child!” the automail mechanic giggled softly as she watched her friend strut to the far end of the car. The navy bow restraining her wild curls shivered with her every step. 

Ed met her gaze and nodded. 

“Do you think the general will let us keep her?” Winry asked, the joke curling her thin veil of seriousness into a grin. 

“I think it’s wonderful,” he admitted. 

Winry’s eyes widened, “You do?”

“I think she’s the only one of us that never really changed,” he continued, “She’s just like she was before everything happened.”

“She didn’t go through the same things we did, Ed. You know that.”

“I do,” he answered with a shrug of his broad shoulders, “but I won’t deny I’m a bit envious she got to hold onto something we gave up a long time ago.” 

Winry frowned, “I believe that’s called growing up.” 

Ed nodded, and she watched as his gaze drifted to the rapidly approaching form of Millie filing past the rows of empty seats, her lips twitching with words unsaid. As their old friend slid across the wooden bench, polished smooth with use, to face them, Winry stiffened as she noticed the dangerous shift in the alchemist’s eyes. It looked like longing. Something acrid bloomed in her chest, and she chewed her lower lip ragged as she watched each of them slowly succumb to the odd kind of fatigue that strikes passengers in the middle of a journey. 

When Ed eventually fought his way out of that fitful sleep, the lofty interior of Central’s train station slowly came into focus on the other side of the grimy glass. When the trio tumbled out of the train car onto the platform, they found themselves greeted by none other than Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang. 

“Been awhile, Fullmetal,” Mustang stated evenly. 

“Sure has, Colonel,” the younger alchemist replied. 

“It’s actually ‘Lieutenant Colonel’ now, you know,” he explained as he reached down to pick up Winry’s suitcase, “Miss Rockbell.” 

Ed waved off his former commanding officer before starting off down the platform, “Yeah yeah, whatever. I’m not in the military anymore, right? I don’t have time for all those titles. Especially not the excessively long one you’ve managed to get your hands on. It’s ‘lieutenant’ or ‘colonel,’ take your pick.” 

His amusement lazily veiled with disgust, the lieutenant colonel followed, leaving the girls scrambling to fall in step beside him. Winry offered Mustang an apologetic grin. 

“I’m sure he doesn’t mean it, sir.” 

“I’m sure he does!” replied the ebony-eyed alchemist with a laugh. 

Winry couldn’t help but cringe. Mustang’s expression softened. He laid a reassuring hand on the mechanic’s shoulder. 

“I’m glad to see he hasn’t changed a bit,” he admitted. 

“Oh, yes. I’m sure,” she mumbled, keeping the images of Ed shut in his makeshift study for days on end, and the terrible things he murmured in his sleep, to herself. 

“Who’s your friend?” Mustang asked, clamoring onto a friendlier subject, “No need to be shy!”

Winry giggled as she took in Millie’s expression, caught somewhere between horror and awe, “She’s usually quite the opposite, in fact. I wonder what’s gotten into her?” 

Mustang shifted the suitcase to stick out his right hand, “Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, at your service.” 

Wordlessly, Millie grasped his gloved hand with trembling fingers and gave it several mechanical shakes. 

“This is Millie Castiel,” Winry explained, while trying to suppress a giggle, “Top student in the Amestrian military engineering program, with a specialization in biochemistry. Clearly, she’s a big fan of yours.” 

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Castiel,” replied Mustang warmly, “I’ve heard lots of good things about you.” 

“M-me?” she squeaked. 

“Your breakthroughs in the calculation and transmutation design in the fields of elemental alchemy aren’t exactly insignificant news,” he continued. 

“Millie?” asked Winry, “Is this true? You never said..”

By now, her cheeks were nearly as red as her hair, “Heh, kind of…?” 

“No reason to be shy about it, as I said,” continued the lieutenant colonel with a smile, “Color me impressed!” 

“T-thanks,” she managed. 

Winry grabbed her friend’s shoulder, putting some distance between them and Mustang. 

“What’s with you?” she asked, “I’ve never seen you so starved for something to say!”

“Don’t you know who he is?!” gaped Millie, “As a state alchemist, and an expert on elemental alchemy, he’s legendary in our program… Everyone’s going to throw a fit when they find out I got to meet him…”

“Hey, focus!” 

“Here that, Fullmetal,” boasted Mustang, “I’m legendary.” 

“Do you know the definition of ‘legend,’ old man?” replied Ed without hesitation as they exited the train station into the bright Central afternoon, “‘something historical, but unauthenticated.’” 

Ed paused. 

“Actually, now that I think about it,” he continued, “That’s perfect for you!”

Mustang scowled as Winry suppressed a laugh. The usually feisty words of rebuttal died on Millie’s tongue. The most she could muster was a strangled frown in the aftermath of the comment. 

“Would you please admit you’re all quite extraordinary,” begged Winry, “I listen to enough sarcasm as it is.” 

“You’re right, Win,” agreed Ed as he flashed one of his face-splitting smiles.

Mustang and Millie joined with quiet nods. 

“And let’s not forget we’re also in the presence of Amestris’ greatest automail mechanic!” 

Winry flushed a horrendous shade of scarlet. Millie caught the lieutenant colonel rolling his eyes. Yet, as soon as they entered military headquarters, still overtaken with scaffolding, the atmosphere around the elder alchemist veered towards frigid. He paused outside the doors to his office. 

“A word, please,” he announced. 

Ed shrugged, “Well, sure. I’m not sure what this could be about but—“

“Not you, Fullmetal,” Mustang explained, “but with Miss Rockbell.” 

Ed frowned, “What do you want with her? I don’t want her involved—“

“It’s nothing like that,” replied the lieutenant colonel, “Purely trivial.” 

“Then why can’t we—“

“Nothing to it,” said Mustang, cutting him off while promptly shoving Winry’s luggage into his arms, “Miss Rockbell.” 

Before Ed could object, he was leading Winry through his office doors with a gently firm grip on her right elbow. 

“Please feel free to show Miss Castiel around as you like—” the end of his sentence punctuated with the click of the closing door. 

On the other side, Winry glanced up at the lieutenant colonel expectantly. His brow glistened with sweat. 

“Not your best work, Roy boy.”

She watched his ebony brows knit themselves together.

“Please… sir,” he pleaded through gritted teeth, “I’ve asked you not to call me that…” 

Winry followed the voice to it’s origin perched on the edge of Mustang’s mahogany desk. 

“Welcome, Miss Rockbell,” said Fuhrer Grumman with a toothy grin. 

Winry swallowed. Suddenly, extraordinary felt like an understatement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! (?) So after soooo much time, I got this chapter out! This is gonna be my longest fic ever, based on what I've planned out! I'm really excited. I hope you're excited too?? Anyway, this story does rely on OCs of mine, but I hope you like them! Mainly Millie. I adore her, and I hope you like her too. If you have any commentary regarding her characterization, please don't hesitate to tell me! I super appreciate any feedback! :D


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